Jack Sparrow and the Wench of Port Royal
by Lyra Silvertongue 13
Summary: Jack's hurt himself by being his usual drunken self, and a woman with an unusual occupation has agreed to take care of him. But this mysterious woman has secrets that will send both of them on a trip filled with old friends. And new enemies. FINISHED!
1. Drunken Pirates and Stunned Wenches

Chapter One  
Drunken Pirates and Stunned Wenches  
  
"Is that all you got, Bones?" Jack Sparrow called, poking the drunk and stumbling pirate in the butt with his sword.  
  
The man howled in pain and fell to his knees, his back to Sparrow. Jack walked slowly and dramatically around to face the man, swaying slightly but normally for his drunken self and lowered his sword.  
  
"Next time you try to rob a drunken man," he said, "make sure of two things: one, that you're not more drunk than he is, and two, if he's Captain Jack Sparrow, you'd better run in the other direction, rather than draw yer sword. Now," he continued, holding out his hand, "I want me money back, savvy?"  
  
When Bones didn't do anything, Jack reached into Bones' pocket and took out his stolen money pouch.  
  
"Ta," Jack said, and turned to leave.  
  
But turning your back on a drunk and angry man is never a good idea. Before he knew it, Jack's right arm was yanked the wrong way with a horrible ripping noise. He screamed bloody murder until Bones' thick fist slammed into his head, knocking him to the ground.  
  
The world spinning around him, trying not to pass out, Jack felt Bones reach into his pocket and take his small bag of money.  
  
"Damn," he said. And he passed out.  
  
  
  
Stumbling slightly on the uneven ground in the alley, Tara was fuming.  
  
"I can't believe he wasn't going to pay me!" She muttered angrily to herself as she walked down the dark, deserted street that led to her apartment. "What, did he think that I'd never done this before?"  
  
She put on a deep male voice. "Oh, sweetheart, I thought this one could be a freebee, being that it's my birthday."  
  
She laughed. "That man's always so drunk, I'll bet he thinks everyday he has sex should be his birthday. Or maybe he thinks I'm drawn to his charming personality and lovely smell of fresh rum and stale sweat."  
  
Tara laughed again and adjusted her breasts in her corseted dress. "My nose won't be able to smell properly for at least a month."  
  
Tara shook her curly, dark red hair out of her sapphire eyes. She was on the verge of taking out her money pouch to see how much she had earned during the night, when she tripped over something and fell hard on her face, instantly receiving a mouthful of dry dirt.  
  
"Damn!" She muttered, spitting out sand and small rocks.  
  
Tara stood up, brushed herself off, and turned around furiously to see what she had tripped over. What she saw melted her anger.  
  
A man was lying face up on the ground, unconscious. His right arm was bruised and clearly sprained.  
  
Tara bent down to examine the man closer. By the look of him, the mysterious man was definitely a pirate. She'd gotten to know quite a few pirates very well during her career. She looked at the large bump on his head, trying not to focus on the fact that he was extremely handsome. Handsome enough, in fact, that she'd be willing to pay him to-  
  
The man groaned. It was too pitiful.  
  
Tara wrapped her arm around the man's waist and pulled him up, leaning his head against her shoulder, and grinning as his dreadlocked beard tickled her chest. She started to struggle towards her apartment, dragging the man along with her.  
  
Tara stopped to breathe when she was outside her apartment, and looked up at a window on the third floor.  
  
Her window.  
  
Her window on the third floor.  
  
The third floor as in thirty-five steep steps away from where she stood, already panting.  
  
"Damn," she muttered again. She stood, thinking of how to possibly get this man up two and a half flights of stairs, when a tall and muscular man walked out of the apartment building.  
  
"Jerrod!" She gasped, dragging Jack and herself up to him. "I could use your help, here!"  
  
Jerrod took a moment to asses the situation, before saying slyly, "wore him out, did you?"  
  
Tara would have slapped him if she wasn't too busy collapsing from the man's weight. "Just shut up and help me get him inside, will you?" she said. "He's hurt." 


	2. Conversations Over Soup

Yea!! I have a review!! Thanks to Jessie for my first review. If anyone else out there happens to be reading my story and is NOT REVIEWING, please start. It makes me sooo happy. Anyway, will continue. This chapter's for Manda because I'm computerly (is that a word) challenged and would have never been able to do it without her. Thanks! Disclaimer: You have no idea how much I would like to own Jack and Will. But I don't.  
  
Chapter 2 Conversations Over Soup  
  
Jack groaned loudly as he opened his eyes slowly, painfully. His head was throbbing, making it feel as though he'd been whacked with an oar by a whelp again. Painfully, groggily, he sat himself up in bed, noticing vaguely that this small, shabby bed was not his.  
  
"But," he thought, smiling to himself as he stretched his arms, "that's not unusual for Captain Jac-OUCH!"  
  
Jack jumped in pain, clutching at his right arm, which he now noticed was bandaged and in a roughly tied sling.  
  
"What the-"  
  
The door to the small room opened, and a woman of about twenty-two came in carrying a small loaf of bread and some soup in a chipped bowl. And, even though he was in intense pain, Jack's manly self couldn't help noticing that she was extremely pretty, not to mention she had perfect-sized..Jack grinned.  
  
"Oh, good!" The woman said. "You're awake. I brought you some bread and soup." She held up the bowl and loaf, and walked to the bed. "How's your arm? Does it hurt? What am I saying? Of course it hurts. You sprained it. Well, at least that's what Mr. Parker said. Mr. Parker's a doctor that lives down the hall. He says you'll need to wear that sling for a few days. And if you-"  
  
She cut off, smiling and blushing. "You'll have to forgive me," she said, putting her bundle on the small table next to Jack and looking at her hands as they twisted in her lap. "I talk too much when I'm nervous."  
  
"Not a problem, luv," Jack replied, smiling in return. "You helped me out, let me stay in your room, and it seems as though you've just brought me breakfast, or," he looked out the window at the sun. "Lunch, rather. Anyway, feel free to talk all you want."  
  
* * *  
  
Tara blushed again. What was she doing? If she didn't stop blushing and fidgeting, this man was going to think she was spastic. She paused to collect herself, and then said "Don't worry about your clothes. I swear I wasn't in here when Mr. Parker undressed you. I wouldn't do that." And why was she being so sincere? If she didn't have the tiny bit of reformity that she actually possessed, she would have ripped his clothes off with her teeth. Damn, he was gorgeous.  
  
The man lifted the blanket and looked underneath, no doubt seeing that he was just wearing underwear.  
  
"Strange," he said. "I hadn't even noticed. So, luv, you got a name?"  
  
"Tara," she said, now suddenly tense. "Just Tara. And you are?"  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow, milady," he replied, sitting up straighter and doing a sort of half-bow in the bed.  
  
Tara went and pulled a chair next to the bed. She could feel Jack's eyes on her. "Probably on my ass," she thought. Though, she couldn't help thinking that if it had to be done, it was at least by someone as beautiful and seemingly kind as this man. She sat in the chair and put her hands in her lap.  
  
"Mr. Sparrow," she started, but Jack cut in.  
  
"Jack'l do, luv. Don't go bein' politically correct, or my head'l start spinnin'"  
  
"Alright, Jack," Tara said, resisting the urge to smile and determinately continuing. I've been thinking. I noticed by your apparel that you're a pirate, and therefore probably don't live here or, in that case, have a place to stay."  
  
When Jack didn't say anything, she plunged on: "So, I thought that, if you wanted to, you could stay here with me while your arm heals. I mean," she watched him clumsily feed himself soup left-handedly. "It'll take time to learn to do things with your other hand, and I can help if you want."  
  
Jack put down his spoon and didn't say anything for a moment. He seemed to be considering.  
  
"As long as you don't feel upset having a man in your room, luv, it sounds great to me."  
  
Tara started to say that having men in her room wasn't anything out of the ordinary for her, but stopped before she had really started. For some reason, she rather wanted to keep the fact that she was a prostitute a secret. This was probably the only man around that didn't start off a conversation with a money offer. She thought for a moment.  
  
"Sounds great," she said.  
  
"But don't worry luv," Jack said, now replacing the bread and soup back on the table. "You can have your bed. I'll take the floor."  
  
"Deal."  
  
"Well," Jack said, taking off the blanket and starting to get up (Tara spun around so as not to see him). "I'm parched. Will you accompany me to the closest bottle of rum?"  
  
Back still to him, Tara smiled once more. "There's a bar down the street. And yes, I'll come with you." ~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~  
  
Well, there's chapter 2! I hope you like it. Like I said, please review and let me know what you think. 


	3. Bad Lies From Good Liars

Woo hoo. Thanks guys for the reviews, and thanks to Manda for finally giving me back the rough draft of this chapter so that I can actually write it. I'm glad you all like my story so far, 'cause it's about to get interesting..  
  
Chapter 3 Bad Lies from Good Liars  
  
Tara was walking with her head up in the air; something she didn't often do before sunset (which was the general time when she started her, um, job). She was very aware that her royal blue dress two sizes too small and only wearable because she was very good at tying a corset, was achieving her many stares. For the first time, this was irritating her slightly.  
  
Being with Jack was making her feel good about herself. The fact that he tended to do more talking to her face than her breasts was also an interesting change. Though, she thought dully, he's probably the only person that I wouldn't mind doing that. But her voice kept faltering every now and then while they talked, because she would see someone dirty check her out or do a toothless, nasty grin.  
  
Nevertheless, she was still having a great time talking with Jack as they walked to the local pub. Tara was fascinated by Jack's tale about racing across the ocean with a man (Tara didn't know his real name because Jack only called him "the whelp") to save his lover from bloodthirsty pirates. She couldn't help smiling when Jack said there wasn't a lady in his life. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. As strange and slightly off as he was, she couldn't help appreciating his company.  
  
When they reached the pub and sat down at a small table for two, Jack ordered them two rums.  
  
"Oh, not for me," Tara said to the barman. "I don't drink."  
  
The barman temporarily looked stunned; probably no one had ever entered his bar before and left it sober. But Jack saved the man from his moment of confusion.  
  
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be more than happy to drink hers for her."  
  
As the barman walked away, Jack turned to Tara. "Don't drink, eh? Why in the bloody 'ell not?"  
  
"Well," Tara said automatically, "I need to be able to keep my head about me in my job, so it's best not to drink."  
  
And then she froze. What had she just done? Why in the hell had she just said that? What a stupid thing to say! She glanced up at Jack, to see if he could tell that she had just flushed deep scarlet. But his drinks had just arrived, and his attention was only half on her now.  
  
"And what is your profession, luv?" He asked, picking up his mug with his left hand, a deeply satisfying grin on his face.  
  
"Well," Tara said, her hands twisting the handkerchief in her lap as she thought fast. "I work.I work for..um..well.I work for..Will Turner!" She spat out, her mind rushing through people she knew that actually had a job.  
  
"Will?" Jack asked, putting his mug down for the first time and looking interested. "The whelp?"  
  
"The...what?" Tara said, taken off guard by this random statement. But then it clicked, and her heart sank.  
  
"Will was the man that I went with on the ship to save his wench...er...lass. Will's one of me greatest friends. You should've told me ye worked for 'im."  
  
"Oh!" said Tara in a much higher voice than usual. "How great! What a coincidence!"  
  
Shit.  
  
"You know," Jack said suddenly, draining his mug and getting slowly to his feet. "I 'aven't seen ol' Will for quite a while. Why don't we go see 'im?"  
  
Tara wanted to say something against this, but Jack grabbed her elbow and pulled her towards the exit of the pub. When they got to the door, the barman blocked the exit.  
  
"Oh!" Jack said, turning drunkenly to Tara, a sudden, slight frown on his face. "Do you think you could take care of the tab, luv? Only, some git stole me wallet."  
  
Tara couldn't speak. She was too stunned at what had just happened. Instead, she just took out her money bag, dropped some coins into the man's outstretched hand, and allowed Jack to steer her out of the bar.  
  
  
  
hehehe. Thanks for reading. I know it's going a little slow, but don't worry. It's getting ready to pick up. A lot. Please review! Thanks! 


	4. Captured

Do be do be do....  
  
  
  
Chapter four  
  
Captured  
  
Crap, crap, crap, Tara thought, as she walked arm in arm with Jack towards Will's shop. Jack's going to find out I don't work for Will, and then he's either going to hate me for lying to him, or think I'm just a slut for being a prostitute. Though, I guess that I kind of am a slut, but it's not like that. If I could find any other job, I would. But no one will hire me because my father was-  
  
"You all right, luv?" Jack asked, interrupting her cascade of thoughts.  
  
"Wh-what?" Tara stuttered, slightly discombobulated.  
  
"You look like yer thinkin' hard. Your eyebrows are all close together and everything."  
  
"It's nothing," she replied, already resigned that she wouldn't tell Jack what was torturing her inside. "It's just...are you sure that you need to see Will now?" She asked hopefully.  
  
"Well, now seems about as good a time as any. Besides, I'll just bet you forgot to tell him you wouldn't be able to work today. Otherwise, he would have told you that he knows me, and you wouldn't look so confused."  
  
Tara opened her mouth to speak, but-  
  
"Jack?! Jack Sparrow?!"  
  
"Will," Jack sighed, walking up to a tall and handsome man holding a hatchet. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"  
  
"Savvy," Will replied, reaching out to shake Jack's hand, and seeing the sling. "Christ, Jack," he said. "What did you do this time?"  
  
"You'd never believe it," Jack said dramatically. "There were fifteen men. And they all came at me at once. I managed to kill all of them, but the last one was a mighty good swordsman, and it took so long to fight him, I'm afraid I pulled something in me arm."  
  
Will looked at Jack for a moment, and then crossed his arms.  
  
"You're right. I don't believe it."  
  
"I found him down an alley with a big lump on his head and his arm all bruised. I could smell a whole bar on him. I'll bet he tripped on a rock," Tara said, grinning and smiling.  
  
Jack looked scandalized. Well, mockingly scandalized. "I'll have you know," he said, standing his ground on drunken and uneven footing. "I fought all twenty men hard, and with only one hand!"  
  
Tara thought to herself that she would not to be the one to tell Jack that his number of foes he fought had just jumped up by five. Will, it seemed, had decided to change the subject.  
  
"Tara," he said, smiling. "And what do I owe this surprise?"  
  
Tara decided not to take this statement literally. Instead, with a quick glance at Jack, she said, "I forgot to tell you that I couldn't work today. I had to take care of Jack. He's staying with me."  
  
As predicted, Will's expression of happiness changed quickly to confusion.  
  
"What-" he started. But Tara cut him off.  
  
"Um, Will. Can I speak with you in private for a moment over here," she said, nodding her head towards the empty street, a ways away from where they stood at the moment. "Only, I need to ask you about the shipment of swords that important guy wanted."  
  
"Oh," said Jack, sounding mildly interested. "What kind of swords?"  
  
"Er...big..long ones," Tara spat out quickly. At the moment, the fact that she knew nothing about swords was not helping her in the slightest.  
  
Will followed her to the empty street, while Jack went inside, no doubt to look for the "big, long swords."  
  
"Tara, what in the bloody hell is going on here?"  
  
"Will," she said, now looking at the ground and rocking back and forth on her feet. "I told Jack that I work for you. He doesn't know I'm a prostitute."  
  
"But why did you do that?"  
  
"Because I wanted to be treated like any other woman. I don't know if you've ever noticed it, but you're the only friend I've ever had, Will. Please give me this chance to make one more. Besides, I like him. A lot."  
  
"I understand," Will sighed. "But why did you have to tell him you work here?"  
  
"What was I supposed to tell him?" Tara asked, now sounding slightly agitated. "That sometimes people work under me, but other times I work under them?"  
  
"Now, I didn't say that," Will said, blushing slightly. "Tara. You're my best friend. And I'm just trying to look out for you. You know that. Because you know that you can't survive without help from people. So please just let us help you."  
  
"You're getting off the subject, Will. Please don't bring that up now."  
  
"But doesn't this all revolve around your fath-"  
  
"Why do you always think that all of my faults revolve around my father?" Tara asked, her voice now angrily rising.  
  
Will's voice was even stronger, and he shook her slightly as he shouted, "anyone with Captain Barbossa as a father is likely to be rebellious sometimes!"  
  
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~  
  
Tara froze. Tears began to fill her eyes as she crossed her arms slowly. Her voice had receded and was now almost a whisper. "Why did you have to do that?"  
  
Will sighed and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm just trying to get you to understand. What you do for a living is dangerous for you. You know all too well that, even though your father is dead, there are still idiots out there that want revenge. And you sleeping with people you don't know is dangerous. What if one of them turns out to be one of Robertson's men? Robertson won't stop until he kills you, Tara. And as much as I want to protect you, I can't always be there."  
  
"When have I ever asked for your help, Will? You've always been a great friend, but I know what kind of danger I'm in. I realize that, now my father's dead, Robertson wants to come after me to avenge his brother's death. He's angry that he didn't get to kill my father himself." Tara paused here for a moment before continuing. "I just wonder who did."  
  
Will shifted uncomfortably at this, but said nothing. He had never told Tara how he became Elizabeth's husband, or how he had received the cut on his palm, or even why he had been missing for a week. He knew she would be devastated if she knew Jack had-  
  
BANG!  
  
A sudden shot rang through the street, and Tara felt something wiz by, very close to her left ear.  
  
A bullet.  
  
"Shit!" She shouted as Will pulled her in close behind him in an effort to protect her.  
  
"Right on cue," he said, taking out a pistol in his left hand, the hatched raised and in his other. "Why is it that he always seems to know when we're talking about him?"  
  
Another bullet went by, so close to Tara's thigh that it ripped a clean hole through her dress.  
  
"Run!" Will shouted, giving her a push and looking for someone to shoot.  
  
Tara didn't need telling twice. She hoisted her dress and ran as fast as she could in her boots. When she reached Will's shop, she saw Jack coming out of it. He had his pistol raised, and he looked scared when he saw Tara running towards him with her hands over head.  
  
"What's going on?" He asked as she reached him.  
  
Tara thought quickly. "I don't know," she panted. "Someone just started to shoot at us."  
  
"Where's the whelp?"  
  
"Over there."  
  
"You stay inside here while I go help 'im."  
  
Jack opened the door to the shop, and then closed it when Tara was inside.  
  
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~  
  
Jack rand to find Will, searching all the while for anyone that might be lurking. He couldn't help feeling slightly happier, now that he knew Tara was okay.  
  
He found Will in the street that he and Tara had been talking. But Will was not alone. His pistol was back in his belt, and a sword was in his hand. He was fighting a big, strong-looking man. The man was speaking.  
  
"One of these days, you'll give up and just let us take her, Turner. We're not the bad guys. We haven't killed anyone. Yet."  
  
"Yet being the key word there, Robertson!" Shouted Will, dodging a blow from the man's sword and attempting to strike him back.  
  
But the man called Robertson was ready. He blocked Will's sword and, pulling a small dagger from his boot, managed to swipe Will's cheek with it.  
  
Will staggered slightly, readying himself to continue the fight. But Robertson, it seemed, was finished. He took a step backwards, and lowered his sword.  
  
"I don't care if it was just her father that killed my brother. Someone has to pay."  
  
He ran. But Will, now on his knees, shouted after him, "Barbossa has already paid!"  
  
"Barabossa?" Jack asked, putting out his hand to help Will to his feet. "What in the bloody hell does he have to do with anything?"  
  
Will stood up and wiped some of the blood off of his cheek with his sleeve, which was instantly stained red.  
  
"Jack," he sighed. "There are some things that I need to tell you."  
  
^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^  
  
"So, let me get this straight," Jack said as they walked back to the shop. "Tara's a wench? But she's different. I mean, I trusted her. Still do, really.."  
  
"Jack!" Will cut in. "Have you not been listening to what I've been saying? Barbossa was her father!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So?! Jack, you killed Barbossa!"  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Exactly. And now-"  
  
"No, Will," said Jack, throwing out an arm to stop his companion. "Not shit about that."  
  
Will stopped walking and stared ahead. Both of them froze. Tara was standing in the street. Two men were holding her arms which were tied together. One of them had a knife to her throat. Robertson was behind the three, holding his gun to Tara's temple. She looked terrified.  
  
------------------------------------- Dun dun dun!!  
  
Sorry about the evil cliffy. I couldn't help it. Please review! Tell me what you think. 


	5. Quick Thinking

Thanks everybody for your reviews! Okay! Without further ado, here's your next chapter!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Quick Thinking  
  
Both Will and Jack drew their swords and started towards Tara and her captors.  
  
Will shouted, "Robertson, you son of a-"  
  
But the man holding the knife pulled it closer to Tara's neck. She took a sharp intake of breath as a small trickle of blood fell down her throat. Both men instantly stopped moving, and Will was silent.  
  
"Now now, Turner," sighed Robertson. "You were getting ready to say something not very nice. Or were you?"  
  
Will looked as furious as Jack felt. But he shook his head.  
  
"No," he said. "I wasn't."  
  
"Good." Roberson smiled. "Gentlemen," he said, "The tide is with me and I have much to do. Ta." They turned to go.  
  
Jack thought hard, the drunken cogs in his head turning like crazy.  
  
"Why don't you kill 'er here?" He called after them.  
  
They spun back around. Will looked at him like he was mad. Tara's face plainly showed that, had her hands not been tied, she would have bitch- slapped him.  
  
Robertson spoke. "What?"  
  
"Why don't you just kill her here without wasting time leaving and sailing, and all that stuff?"  
  
Robertson didn't say anything for a moment. He seemed to be slightly puzzled. "Because, you idiot," he said, "someone's probably already heard the fighting, and if we don't leave now, we risk being caught, and not being able to kill this whore."  
  
Jack restrained himself with much effort. But, it was a close one. Instead, he replied, "Then, let me come with you."  
  
"And why the bloody hell should we do that?" Asked one of Robertson's men, who had, up until now, kept silent.  
  
"Because it would give me extreme pleasure to be there when you kill her. I mean, since I can't do it on my own." Jack pointed to his right arm to show the sling.  
  
"Who are you, man?" Robertson asked, now sounding genuinely interested.  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, straightening up slightly.  
  
The man holding the knife removed it from Tara's neck and pointed it at Jack in amazement. "Holy...you..your the one who...."  
  
"Yeah," Jack said. "I killed Barbossa."  
  
Tara swayed on the spot. He knew that hearing this without the full story must be killing her, but Jack refrained from looking at her, afraid to blow his cover.  
  
"Keep your position!" Shouted Robertson, and the man replaced the knife to Tara's neck. Robertson looked at Jack, who stared back into his cold eyes.  
  
"Fine," he said. "You can come. Just don't slow us down."  
  
"Got it." Jack started to walk towards Robertson. Then he turned around. "Guess we can't leave the whelp here to spill the news." He raised his gun, and pointed it at Will's head. He looked right into his eyes, and pulled the trigger.  
  
Will fell in a heap, motionless.  
  
Tara screamed, fighting with all of her might to try and escape from her captors. But they were much too strong for her, and one of the men hauled her over his shoulder and carried her towards the ship docked nearby, with Jack walking behind them.  
  
  
  
Short, I know. But don't worry. I'll update sooner (I hope!). School sucks. I don't have much time to update with Biology and Algebra and English and so on and so forth..  
  
But I promise I'll keep going, if you keep reviewing! Please remember that more reviews motivates me to write faster! 


	6. Thinking, Planning, and Plotting, Oh My!

Okay, I know you want to know how Will is, so let's just shut up and get goin' with the story.  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Thinking, Planning, and Plotting, Oh My!  
  
Will opened his eyes. His head was killing him. Slowly, very slowly, he stood up, his arms out in the air to keep his balance. Will felt the skin against his temple. It stung. He looked at his fingers, which were blotted with dark, slightly dried blood. It seemed as though the bullet had just grazed him.  
  
"I don't know how you manage to be extremely drunk and still pull off that kind of shot, Jack," Will sighed, "but I'm extremely thankful you can."  
  
He paused a moment to think, looking around at the completely deserted street. Either way he looked at it, things didn't seem to be going very well. But the more time he spent doing nothing, he thought, the further away from Port Royal Jack and Tara were.  
  
"Think, think," Will told himself. He had to find a way to get to Jack and Tara, wherever they were.  
  
And then it came to him.  
  
"Norrington," he said in a dramatic whisper.  
  
Will sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him towards the Commodore's house.  
  
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~  
  
Tara shivered. Not just because she was cold (though that was definitely part of it), but because she was scared. Terrified to be more precise. She was in a ship full of people that wanted her dead. Including- Tara shuddered- Jack.  
  
How could Jack do this to her? Moreover, how could she have fallen for Jack?  
  
And Will?! Tara felt the tears start to well up in her eyes. Will had been right. He wouldn't always be there to protect her. But Tara had never thought that it would be her fault that he wouldn't be there.  
  
Tara banged her head against the wall of her cell, as the boat was tossed on the ocean. No matter how she thought about it, the fact was that it was her fault that Will was dead. She had killed Will.  
  
No! She thought desperately. Jack killed Will. He had betrayed them both. He was just another horrible pirate that people always talked about. And to think that she had actually fallen for him!  
  
The boat dipped again, and Tara was sprayed with water from the porthole. She had been in her cell for over a day. Judging by the increasing darkness, night was starting to fall.  
  
Tara shivered again, and curled into a ball as the tears started to flow.  
  
"I'm so sorry Will," she whispered.  
  
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~  
  
Jack slammed down his cards. "Full house, men!" He shouted. "Read 'em and weep."  
  
The other men at the small table groaned, and Jack one handedly scooped the pile of gold into his pocket.  
  
"Sorry guys, but did you honestly expect to be able to beat Captain Jack S- "  
  
"Yeah, yeah," growled one of the men, shuffling the cards and preparing to deal again.  
  
But just then, Jack noticed Robertson walking across the threshold, with a small and hard looking loaf of bread, and a bowl of watery soup. Judging by the fact that they had lots of fresh and much more scrumptious looking food right here on the table, Jack decided that this parcel of food was to be taken to Tara. Jack put down his half-empty bottle of rum.  
  
"Let me take it," he called to Robertson, standing up, his pockets jangling.  
  
Robertson looked at him suspiciously.  
  
"I..I could do with taunting the wench before we take care of her," Jack added quickly. "By the way," he paused for a quick moment to collect himself, scratching his crotch as a distraction. "When do we kill 'er?"  
  
"Well," Robertson said, putting down the food and leaning against a piling to think. "We're about far enough out to sea that there's no chance of any ship seeing us, so I say first thing in the morning. So, take 'er this food so she won't be hungry 'fore she dies."  
  
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~  
  
Tara froze. Someone was coming down the stairs. She gripped the little bench she was sitting on hard.  
  
It was Jack.  
  
He was holding bread and a bowl of soup. Just like she had when he was in her room.  
  
He was mocking her.  
  
Tara's fear changed almost at once into anger. Anger at Jack. It was all Jack's fault.  
  
"You son of a b-"  
  
"Not now!" Jack whispered loudly. His voice was urgent, and he put down his bundle and looked into Tara's eyes.  
  
"You have to believe that I would never want to kill you. You are an amazing person with a sense of humor and almost too much wit for my rummed up brain to take."  
  
Tara started to interrupt, but Jack cut her off again.  
  
"Will told me that you're a prostitute, and honestly I couldn't care less. That wouldn't change how I feel about you. And your father..Tara, you're not your father. He was nothing like...nothing like you. I can truthfully say that I never thought I'd say this, but I think- no- I know I love you. And if you can't believe me, well, I don't know what I'll do."  
  
Tara looked at him. But then she thought.  
  
"But Will. If all of this is true, then why did you kill Will?"  
  
"Luv, I didn't kill 'im. I pride meself in being a great shot. I just skimmed the skin. He's fine."  
  
Tara looked deep into his eyes. They looked truthful.  
  
"I believe you," she whispered.  
  
"Good," Jack said, smiling. He picked up a bench sitting next to the wall and placed it in an interesting position in the cell bars.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Leverage, luv," he muttered, mainly to himself. "It's all about leverage."  
  
He pushed down on the bench, causing the bars to break open at the hinges. The noise was relatively loud, but neither thought it would be audible through the howling of the wind or water.  
  
"Milady," Jack said, holding out a hand to help her out of the cell.  
  
She took it, and they carefully proceeded to the moonlit deck.  
  
"Now," he said, looking around, "I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of here, but-"  
  
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.  
  
  
  
Man! I'm just leaving cliffy after cliffy. Sorry 'bout that. Thanks everybody for your reviews. There's only a few more chapters left, I believe, so boo hoo. Actually, I've been thinking about writing another movie-sequel-story-thing. Any suggestions on what movie/book/show to do it on?  
  
Please review! 


	7. All By His Onesie?

Okay okay. I know I haven't updated for a while, but give me a break. Well, here goes...  
  
Disclaimer: Hey, Lyra. We've got good news!  
  
Lyra: I own Will and Jack?!  
  
Disclaimer: No. We just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.  
  
Lyra: Damn.  
  
Disclaimer: She owns nothing. (including Geico).  
  
  
  
Last time on Jack Sparrow and the Wench of Port Royal..  
  
"Now, I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of her, but-"  
  
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.  
  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
All By His Onesie?  
  
"How did you know?" Jack asked, automatically pulling Tara to his side but not turning to face Robertson.  
  
"It was easy." Robertson's voice echoed around the ship as he laughed. "You didn't finish your drink. And everyone knows Jack Sparrow never leaves a bottle of rum unfinished."  
  
"Ah," said Jack, secretly pulling a pistol out of his holster and giving it to Tara. "I should've thought of that."  
  
Tara looked momentarily confused at the weapon in her hand, but nodded at Jack. She knew what was getting ready to happen.  
  
"Jack, your arm," she whispered to him as he slid off the sling.  
  
"Healed," Jack replied, smiling at her and taking out his other pistol for himself. "You're an excellent nurse."  
  
"Good," Tara muttered. "I think that other arm will come in handy."  
  
Jack smiled. "Oh stop, luv. You're makin' me blush."  
  
"Turn around, Barbossa," came Robertson's voice, interrupting Tara's and Jack's conversation.  
  
Tara cocked her gun.  
  
"My name," she said, "is Tara!"  
  
Both she and Jack spun around and started to shoot.  
  
Robertson dove out of the way, but his mates weren't fast enough. With two grunts of pain, they quite literally hit the deck.  
  
"Where's Robertson?" Tara asked frantically, looking around with her gun still in front of her, shaking slightly.  
  
"Right here," said a snarl.  
  
Tara whipped around. So did Jack, who turned just in time to see Robertson sink a knife below Tara's ribs.  
  
"NO!" Jack shouted.  
  
Time seemed to suddenly go in slow motion.  
  
Tara held her stomach, and her eyes shined with tears. They looked terrified and innocent. Those eyes focused on Jack as her knees hit the ground.  
  
Jack started to run to her, but stopped when Robertson raised his gun and pointed it between Jack's eyes.  
  
"You didn't save her, Jack," he said, grinning in a menacing way. "I actually prefer it this way. The daughter of my greatest enemy dying just when she thought she had love. It gives me such joy. Don't you think so, Jack?"  
  
"You son of a bitch!" Jack raised his gun, ready to die. Just as long as he took this bastard down with him.  
  
BANG!  
  
Jack jumped. He was dead. He knew it.  
  
His heart was beating fast.  
  
Wait.  
  
His heart beating? If his heart was beating, he couldn't be dead. Jack automatically checked his package. Everything was in order. But then.... He looked at Robertson, and jumped again.  
  
Robertson was face down on the deck, blood flowing out of the back of his head. Tara was standing behind him, her face set, her raised gun smoking. Then she dropped it and started to fall.  
  
Jack ran as fast as he could, and caught her before she landed.  
  
"Good catch," Tara whispered softly, tears running down her face. "If you'd missed, I would've hurt you."  
  
Jack grinned, his eyes glassy. "I'm the one whose supposed to be cracking jokes, luv," he said.  
  
"Jack," Tara muttered, her voice growing soft. "I love you. You need to know that I love you. And I'll always watch over you-"  
  
"Not now you won't," Jack cut in. "I won't ever let you die."  
  
He took off his shirt (Tara couldn't help grinning), opened her dress, and wrapped the shirt around her small waist. He cringed as it was drenched in her blood, but proceeded to wrap her in his coat. He then picked her up carefully, and carried her to the bed he had been unable to sleep in.  
  
Tara was extremely pale and asleep by the time Jack heard the sound of an approaching ship. He knew even before he went on deck who it was.  
  
Will stepped off the neighboring ship when he saw Jack emerging from below. "Where's Robertson?" He asked, his sword raised.  
  
"Dead," Jack said quickly. He was very glad to see Will. Not too happy to see Norrington standing on the deck of the other ship, glaring at him, but that was no matter at the moment. "Tara's hurt bad. We need to get her on the other ship."  
  
"Yeah," said Will, now speaking as quickly as Jack. "Of course."  
  
The two of them ran down to the cabin where Tara lay, sleeping and dying. Jack was terrified, but glad he wasn't alone anymore. It was hard to steer a ship all by your onesie.  
  
  
  
I know that chapter moves kind of fast, but it was hard to write. Give me a break. And a review! Reviews are good!  
  
You review......I keep writing. Thanks! 


	8. To Die for Love

I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedledee.......  
  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
To Die for Love  
  
Jack sighed. He was exhausted.  
  
He was back in Port Royal, in Tara's small apartment room. This time, she was in the bed, her eyes closed, chest moving slowly up and down as she breathed.  
  
Tara hadn't woken up since he and Will had moved her to the other ship three days ago. He remembered how scared Will had looked, helping support her as they carried her motionless body across the ship.  
  
Jack sat in the rickety chair beside her and put his hands over his face as he thought back to what had happened after that.  
  
It had taken two days just to get back to Port Royal.  
  
Jack had worked furiously with the crew in his efforts to get back to port, but he was unable to put his all into it. His mind was below deck with Tara.  
  
The thoughts that the one woman he had ever loved was dying below his feet while he was tying knots and steering a ship had torn him apart. It had taken all his strength not to just sit with her and hold her. But doing that would have made the journey home take longer, so Jack had worked relentlessly for two days before pulling the ship into the harbor.  
  
He had carried her to her apartment while Will called for the doctor that lived down the hall.  
  
After dressing her wound, the doctor had admitted to Jack that it didn't look good. Tara had lost a lot of blood, and if she didn't wake up soon, she probably wouldn't wake up at all.  
  
Jack blinked furiously. What was going on? Jack Sparrow-no-Captain Jack Sparrow didn't cry. Even if his lover was-  
  
There was a knock on the door. Jack rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Come in," he grumbled.  
  
Will entered. He was carrying a half-empty bottle of rum and a small bread loaf.  
  
"Elizabeth thought you might be hungry. And," Will shook the bottle at Jack. "She doesn't know about this. It's not much. Elizabeth has practically outlawed alcohol within a five-mile radius of her ever since she met you, so I had to hide this in the shop."  
  
Jack shook his head.  
  
"Nah. I'm fine," he said, his eyes still on Tara's face.  
  
Will pulled up another chair and sat down in it beside his friend.  
  
"Jack," he said, resting his hand on Jack's shoulder. "You've got to eat and get some rest. If Tara wakes up and sees you like this, she'll black right out again."  
  
Jack reached out his hand and stroked Tara's velvet cheek. It was still warm, but still pale. Then he ran his fingers through her crimson hair.  
  
"Why did she become a prostitute, Will?" He asked suddenly.  
  
"Why does any woman become a prostitute?" Will replied, looking at her too. "She's beautiful and needed money. She couldn't get a job anywhere else because of Barbossa. But when you're a prostitute, people don't really care who your father was."  
  
Jack suddenly got to his feet.  
  
Will jumped and stopped talking in surprise.  
  
Jack started to pace around, digging his fingers in his hair. Then he started to speak. Normal at first, but growing louder and angrier as he went:  
  
"This is all my fault. If I hadn't gotten drunk and had my money stolen by that stupid bastard, I would have never met Tara, and Tara wouldn't be in this bed, dying!"  
  
Will got to his feet and stared intently at Jack.  
  
"You're right," he said. "Tara wouldn't be dying. She'd be dead. And I believe that she prefers it this way."  
  
Jack looked as though he wanted to strangle Will.  
  
"Why in the hell would you say that? If she might die anyway-"  
  
"She'll die knowing you love her," Will cut in, sitting in Jack's seat. "I've known Tara a lot longer than you, Jack. And I know that the only thing she's ever wanted more than anything is to be loved. I bet that's why she didn't want you to know she was a prostitute or that her father was Barbossa. She wanted you to know her for who she really is, not what society has named her. And she's always been willing to die for that."  
  
Will stood up, gave Jack's shoulder a squeeze, and left the room.  
  
Jack sighed, and went again to sit next to Tara as she slept.  
  
  
  
Now, that was short. Hmmm.  
  
Just a quick reminder, set in math form for all you geniuses out there:  
  
Chapter + Review = ANOTHER CHAPTER!!!  
  
Wheeeee! 


	9. Choices and Unwanted Tears

Wow! Sorry it's taken a little while to update, but I've started a new story, and I've been having a little trouble with this last chapter, so...whatever.  
  
Anyway, I am sorry to say that this is the last chapter for Jack Sparrow and the Wench of Port Royal *cries hysterically, then smacks self to gain control*. But, if you feel like it, read my new story. Have more to tell, but will get to that after the next chapter....  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. You don't sue me.  
  
Get it?  
  
Got it?  
  
Damn  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Choices and Unwanted Tears  
  
"And she shall be watching over us from heaven while we continue to live, until we pass on to join her with the Lord, our God. And it is in his name that we pray, Amen."  
  
The priest closed the Bible, and made a cross across his chest.  
  
All of the people in the cemetery sighed. All of the women were crying, their husbands holding their shoulders tightly in an attempt to comfort them.  
  
As everyone exited the graveyard, men with shovels came to bury the coffin in the ground.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Jack turned around to see Will heading towards him.  
  
"Nothing," Jack replied, turning away from the cemetery gate to speak to Will.  
  
"On your way to see Tara?"  
  
"Yeah," said Jack, proceeding in the direction of Tara's apartment. "She's doing a lot better now. 's been walkin' 'round her room a little."  
  
"Mind if I come with you to see her?" Asked Will, jogging slightly to keep up with Jack's quick pace.  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
Will stopped trying to keep up with Jack. In fact, he stopped walking entirely.  
  
It took Jack a moment to notice. He looked around for a second, before spotting his friend about ten feet behind him.  
  
"What?" He asked.  
  
"You don't want me to come with you?"  
  
Will sounded somewhat hurt.  
  
"Look, Will," sighed Jack, walking back to join him and continue walking. "I know you're her best mate, but I'm the one that's going to marry her."  
  
"You asked her then?" Asked Will, no longer sounding upset, but highly interested.  
  
"That's what I'm off to do, if you'd ever let me be on me Onesie."  
  
They'd reached the apartment building by now.  
  
Both said their momentary goodbyes and split up.  
  
It had been about two weeks since Tara had killed Robertson. Though the doctor had been doubtful, she had survived, waking up just a day after Will and Jack had talked in her room. She was still spending most of her time in bed, but, as Jack had said, she was getting much better.  
  
Jack took a deep breath as he rolled back and forth on his feet outside Tara's door.  
  
Then he knocked.  
  
"Come in," called Tara's voice.  
  
Jack opened the door, entered and then shut it again.  
  
Tara was sitting up in bed, her back against the wall. She was looking out the window.  
  
"I saw you watching the funeral," she said, not taking her eyes off the activity going on outside. "You looked sad. Are you alright?"  
  
"I've never felt better, luv."  
  
Tara was so taken aback that she turned to stare at Jack.  
  
"Why do you say that?" She asked curiously.  
  
"I'm just so happy it wasn't your funeral."  
  
Jack sighed and walked to the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something Tara couldn't see.  
  
Then he got on one knee.  
  
Tara let out a small gasp. She couldn't help it. This was just unexpected....  
  
"You're gonna have to bear with me," said Jack. His voice, for the first time, shook slightly. "I'm new at all of this sentimental stuff."  
  
"Don't worry," Tara whispered, an unwanted tear in her eye. "I am too."  
  
Jack took her left hand in his.  
  
"Tara," he said. "I love you so much. And when you almost died, I thought I would too. So, I guess the only good way to keep track of you is....will you marry me?"  
  
Tara's throat was too tight to speak. She nodded.  
  
Jack opened his hand. There was a small piece of coal in it. He took it and carefully drew a circle around Tara's ring finger.  
  
"'fraid I don't have a real ring now, but that's a technicality that can be taken care of with a little pillaging."  
  
Tara smiled.  
  
Jack frowned.  
  
"We don't have to take your last name, do we?" He asked.  
  
Tara gave him a slight push on the shoulder, then kissed him deeply.  
  
Jack grinned, and kissed her back.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
I can't believe that's it! Compared to lots of others, it was fairly short. But, when I think about it, adding more stuff would have just made it drag.......  
  
Anyway, like it? If so, REVIEW it.  
  
Oh, and by the way, do you think I should do a sequel? If so, how 'bout jotting down some ideas to give me 'bout what you would like to see..er....read.er.whatever. But keep in mind, if you don't give me a yes/no, I just won't do one at all. So, give me your input!  
  
Well, ta for now! 


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